She'll Be There
by Hullabaloo Torkalloo
Summary: The story of Peter Tork and his childhood friend, Hayley Jackson, who moved to Los Angeles with her mother after her parent's divorce, comes to visit Peter every winter break. Each year they quickly fall into their old routine, but not this year. Something is different with Hayley, and Peter's determined to find her old self. Some drugs, sexual situations, and some languages.
1. Preface

_Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age_

_The child is grown, and puts away childish things._

_Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies._

~Edna St. Vincent Millay

* * *

**Part One: Peter Tork**

**PREFACE**

Have you ever had a feeling that you fell in love with your best friend? A true friend reaches for your hand, and touches your heart? A friend who was one of the nicest people you can have, and one of the best things you can be with?

There's always this one person who kept you up all night, whom you exchanged secrets with, shared your most exaggerated out of this world, impossible to reach dreams, your silly jokes and joined you with all your stupid and dumbest ideas, who had your back and he or she got yours. There's always this one person whom you can call a sister or a brother, even if you aren't even blood related. The one you mostly had in common with: you both had passion in music, the same month that you were born, the same languages you spoke, and the same family background. You had childhood memories to cherish with.

But then, your friend told you that her parents had a divorce recently, and her family was separated. Every winter, you looked forward to a visit from her, your childhood pal, who moved away with her mother after her parent's divorce; the day she leave at your 15th Frienniversary that you celebrate every New Year's Eve. She promised to keep in touch with you whenever she was gone. But her promise was broken. She neglected and forgotten all the letters and calls you had sent her. You decided to move on and forget about her, but deep inside your heart, she was the missing piece that made your world complete. You then seek your fame and fortune in Los Angeles, lived with four guys in a beach house, formed a band called "The Monkees", until you met your friend a few years later. She wasn't the girl you thought she should be. She'd changed. The former "girl next door" now had a different face and personality. But you knew that somewhere beneath the Goth, "Old Hayley" still exists, and you were determined to find her… even if it means pissing her off.


	2. Chapter 1

**_Friday, December 28, 1956_**

**_Location: Storrs, Connecticut._**

**_Time: 1:05 a.m._**

"Ugh! John! AAAHHH!" I woke up from the noise that resonated across the hall. I opened the door, and quickly went inside my parents' room. Mom was damped in sweat, with a big bump on her belly, and dad sat beside her.

"Okay, Virginia. Just breathe. I'll call an ambulance."

"Dad, what's going on?" Nick and Chris appeared behind me. I looked frantically at my parents.

"Peter, call the ambulance. The baby's coming! You're mom's pregnant, I'll make sure she's okay." Mom screeched like a dying horse. I rushed downstairs to the living room and called the hospital.

"Hello? Yes, uh, I, um… this is an emergency! Yes! My mom is pregnant, and we need an ambulance to get her to the hospital, hurry!"

"_Okay, calm down. What's the address of your house?_"

"23 Hillside Circle, Eastwood Road."

"_Name, please?_"

"Peter Thorkelson."

"_Okay, Mr. Thorkelson. The ambulance would be there in fifteen minutes._"

* * *

"Peter, I'm hungry." Chris whimpered.

"Didn't you just eat hotdogs already?"

"Yeah, but I'm still hungry." Chris whined.

"All right, little man. Let's go to the lobby and buy some food. Nick, you want to come?"

He simply nodded.

We've been waiting in the John Memorial Hospital, for about half an hour. Dad was in the ER with mom, since she was in labor, and he ordered me to keep an eye with my five-year-old brother, Chris. I bought some sandwiches for Nick also when we were at the lobby. We went back at the eighth floor and dad, and the doctor; Mr. Jefferson, came to announce us that the baby was a girl. We went to the ICU to see mom, with a tiny baby cradled in her arms. Mom was crying, and we approached her.

"Peter, where is she? I want to see her." I lifted Chris up to get a good look at the baby. He gasped, surprised to see her.

"She's so cute!"

"Yeah, I know. What would you name her, mom?" I asked.

"Anne. Anne Elizabeth."

"Grams name?"

"Yes. I love your grandmother so much. Remember you had a good connection with her?"

I nodded. I did remember. Grams was the only friend that I trusted; she supported me when I'm down, and took excellent care of me, when my parents were not around. I stared at the baby, amazed by her appearance. Her chubby round face was adorable; her eyes were big, crystal blue, just like dads. Her hands balled into tiny, fragile fists. Her skin was reddish. I touched it, and it felt so smooth. Her tiny lips were pursed in a thin line; she cooed peacefully into our mother's arms. She was perfect.

"Hello, Anne. Welcome to the family." I smiled.

Chris, Nick and I sat down at the waiting room. Dad was at the receptionist desk filling in papers. Chris rested his head on Nick's lap, while Chris's feet was on my lap. I tried to keep myself awake, when someone tapped my shoulder.

"Peter?" I looked up and my face lit up when I saw Haley I gently put Nick's feet on the chair, so I could stand up and hug her. She looked beautiful. With her auburn hair pulled back into a braid, her evergreen eyes glistened, her skin as white as snow, as if she'd been glowing, and her dress that captivated her curvy figure, and long slender arms.

"How do you know where I was?"

"You're dad called home. He told me you have a baby sister. Congratulations." She simpered. "So, what's her name?"

"Anne Elizabeth."

"I want to see her." I stuck out my hand and led her to the ICU. I knocked on the door, and mom smiled weakly at us. She still has the baby on her arms. Haley smiled, and approached mom to greet her.

"Hello, Haley." Mom greeted.

"Hello, Mrs. Thorkelson. Wow, she's one fine baby. Um, may I?" Mom gave Anne to Hayley. She carefully carried her by her arms, and Anne curled her tiny finger around Haley's. The baby cooed.

"Hey, Annie. I'm Haley your brother's friend. It's so nice to meet you. Oh, you're so adorable. I wish I had a sister like her." I frowned. When we were little, Hayley always dreamed of having a brother or a sister to play with. She and I had come up with names, written on a scrap of paper, when her mother, Denise, was pregnant. Sadly, she miscarried the baby. Haley kept asking and asking her parents when the baby was coming. Her parents tried to explain, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Haley got upset, went to her room, and never came out. I even tried to get her out of there, when I brought some toys to play with her.

"Haley, come on. Don't you want to play?" I rapped on her door.

"No! Go away!" I realized the door was unlocked. I opened it and peeked inside. There were scattered papers everywhere. Drawings of stick people titled, "The Baby and Me". Drawings of her family with a drawing of a baby's face with a question mark in it. I found Haley curled up in a ball from her bed. I heard a muffled cry, whimpering. I shook her from her bed and she angrily sat up.

"Daddy said that the baby… died."

"I know."

"What do I do, Peter?" she wiped her tears from her sleeve.

"What do you mean?" My eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't have anyone to play with. No one to love or care, or share my room with."

"You have me, Hayley. I will be there for you, no matter what. Even when you're far away, like you're in Paris and I'm in the Arctic, I will still be there, and never forget you."

"The Arctic? You will die from the cold, and get eaten by polar bears!"

"Fine, in London. But, I will be right here." I touched her flat chest with my index finger, where her heart should be. She smiled, and hugged me tightly.

"I love you, Peter. Please stay?"

"I love you, too, Hayley. And I promise." We snuggled from her bed for a really long time, and we fell asleep.

"Where're your parents?" I asked her. Hayley gave the baby back to mom, and she led me out the room. She shook her head and looked away, her lips pursed.

"What?" I pressed. She didn't answer. I gave up and went back to the waiting room to sit down.

"My parents are not together anymore." She mumbled.

"What? Why?" She sat down beside me.

"Dad cared about his record business than his family. He found out mom had an affair with another guy. She told me she started seeing this guy a few months ago, and dad got upset. Ever since dad got rich, he forgot about us. It was awful; he had done a lot of drinking lately. He never forgave her. " She blinked, in an attempt to get rid of the tears from the corners of her eyes. I put my arm around her, as she put her head on my chest, trembling. When she cries, no noise comes out. No whimper, no sniffing, and no hiccups came out from her. I could tell because, her lips trembled every time she was about to cry.

"It's okay. When did this happen?" I clearly don't understand. They were a perfect family. Her parents seemed to love each other. Even at parties that I went with them, they showed love and affection to one another with no shame. They held their hands, cuddled, snuggled, with Hayley's dad, Richard's arm around his wife, and kissed every time they said, "I love you" in front of us. They were not afraid to show it. Then how come it went to a situation like this? Divorce? Separation? I don't see anything going on with them. They were normal, living in a normal life, a normal world.

"A week ago, Tuesday… and Pete?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm leaving Connecticut in New Year's Eve, with my mom, moving in with her boyfriend in San Francisco. I- I don't know when I would be coming back." My heart sank when she said this. New Year's Eve; the day we celebrate our fifteenth frienniversary. The day she will be leaving, and God-knows-when she will be coming back.

* * *

_**Monday, December 31, 1956**_

_**Location: At the Thorkelson's house**_

_**10:23 p.m.**_

My family and I were preparing for New Year's Eve. Everything seemed to be in place. Massive meals we had were on the table, like we're in a buffet. The place was decorated with Christmas lights, which mother preferred not to take it off, balloons were at the ceiling, and wrapped gifts were under the Christmas tree; mom didn't want to take that off either. Billie Holiday blared out of the jukebox, and the doorbell rang. I strode to the door and opened it. My aunts, uncles, cousins, they brought their friends along with them, and Grams came carrying foil wrapped foods. Uncle Drew brought bottles of wines, and joyfully greeted my parents. My cousin Ule and his siblings had presents with them. Grams hugged me tightly; her talcum powder wafted through my nose. I hugged her back and grinned. I missed her. Tears streaked through my eyes.

"Grams!"

"Oh, my sweet boy, Peter. Here, help me with these. Granny's too old to carry these." I settled the foods down at the living room table, since the dining tables already full.

"Grams, sit down."

"Oh, thank you dear. Our drive here took us eight hours. We have to wake up early, you know? Your Uncle Drew kept yapping at us to get our butts off to work." She disapprovingly shook her head and made a "tsk" noise. "Thank Lord, we're here. Granny can finally rest. The Mini Cooper's difficult to ride in. The five of us- Aunt Barbara, Uncle Drew, your cousin Ryan and I were squished in there. Anyways, what about you? I heard your friend's parents were separated. I'm so sorry, dear." She patted my back. "Your parents are worried about her."

"Yeah. She's coming here, by the way. Mom invited her, since Haley's parents were... you know..." The door bell rang. I approached the door and opened it. Haley stood beautifully in front of me. Her white wool hat was on, her multi pocket car coat was covered with tiny flakes of snow, and her black go go boots as well. She held out a wrapped gift and smiled at me.

"Hi, Peter."

"Haley, come in! It's cold outside." I took off the coat for her and hung it on the coat wrack.

"Thanks..."

"Can I get you something. Do you want uh, hot chocolate with marshmallows in them?"

"Please do, Peter. Thank you." I led her to the living room as I gave her the hot chocolate. I sat down beside her on the love-seat, and I fidgeted.

"So... how was your dad?"

"Well, as usual. Drinking like hell. Mother was packing all of our stuff. I'm leaving in two hours, twelve at midnight sharp. I couldn't stand them shouting and arguing all the time. Dad was a mess. He was drunk going to work, the house was filled with bottles of beer, wine coolers, and his filthy clothes were sprawled everywhere in the living room. He was horrid. Mom told me they never communicate when his business distracted him more. Money, money, money was all he'd been wanting. She even said he was a sadistic bastard. Well, he is- "

"-Oh, Haley welcome!" We both jumped and saw my mom standing with a tray filled with biscuits. She had her Cheshire grin on, trying her best to make Haley feel better.

"Would you like some biscuits I baked? Here, try one." She handed her the biscuit. Haley tried to smile and said thanks. "I'm really sorry about what happened to your parents. Are you alright? Do you want to stay here for a while? If you want, I'd love for you to stay and converse here with my son. Hope you're not in a hurry."

"Oh Mrs. Thorkelson, thank you so very much, I appreciate it. And no, I'm not in a hurry. I'll be leaving at midnight with my mother." Haley smiled.

A few minutes later, we went to the dining room packed with family and friends. We said grace before we eat.

"Lord, we give you thanks and love for all the food you gave us." Mother said. "We pray for the poor who hungered with thirst with no food, shelter, and the needs in their life. We pray for you God that our family back in Berlin are going to be safe, even though they can't celebrate here with us. But we are here at this wonderful table, filled with gracious meals, goodies, presents, celebrating New Year's Eve with our family and friends. We join this table to be happy, to forget all the bad things, and to have a great time. Once again, Lord, we thank you for our health, for sparing us from any disastrous things that had happened recently..." Haley cringed. I held her hand and squeezed it. She looked up at me.

'It's going to be okay.' I mouthed. She squeezed my hand back and smiled. "...and bless this table O Lord, that are gathered with our family and friends." Mom finished her sentence.

"Amen." We all said in unison.

"Okay, enjoy! _Bon appétit_!" Mother announced, and everyone began to grab food. Everything was delicious, and complements on the meal came from all directions.

After everyone had eaten their fill, and then some, Haley, Grams, and I started a dish washing chain, helping mom and dad, and sent the others into the living room where they collapsed around the couch to open their gifts. I was watching Haley out of the corner of my eye, while I wash the dishes, as she helped Grams with all the left overs and put them in the fridge. Haley then stood with my mother at the end of the dish-washing line, drying the plates as my mother finished washing them. I stared at her. Haley was wearing a front tie flannel plaid shirt and a flannel lined jeans. Her hair was braided back the same way it was pulled back when she went to the hospital. It occurred to me that I had never seen her wear make up, and today was no exception. Haley could just be that naturally beautiful, I got swept off by her beauty, I completely forgot to turn off the tap from the sink, while mother shook me out of my thoughts by shouting my name.

"Peter, you're starting to make a flood all over the kitchen floor! My goodness!" I looked down at my clothes and it was soaking wet. I quickly turned off the tap, but the plate that I was holding shattered to pieces. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ In the living room, heads swiveled around and stared at me, Haley grinned and giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. I turned beet red.

"I'll handle this, go change your clothes." Mom ordered. I looked down, so I wouldn't stare back at them and went upstairs to my room and changed clothes. I picked up the present I have for Haley. Few minutes had passed and I went back downstairs to see Haley in the living room talking to Grams. I smiled. I wiped my sweaty hands on my pants, approached them, and cleared my throat.

"Peter, want to go outside?" Haley nodded at the door. I looked at Grams. She gave me a reassuring grin.

"Go on dear, I'll tell your mother." I nodded. Haley and I grabbed our jackets and hats from the coat rack and left.

* * *

"So, what happened back there, butterfingers?" She punched me playfully on my arm.

I chuckled nervously. "Oh uh... I was lost in thought." I put my hands in my pocket and clenched my fists. I tried to change the subject.

"I'm gonna miss you." I sighed.

"Me too. But we still have plenty of time though. I still have two hours. Where do you want to go?"

"Surprise me."

"Okay. Come on, follow me." She held my hand and we ran. We went to a snowy, bumpy hill towards a local park. Suddenly we both fell, rolling down the hill, laughing hysterically loud. We lay flat on the ground, and began to make a snow angel all over the pile of snow. We laughed non-stop, it was contagious.

"So, was this your surprise?"

"Hmm... maybe..." She stood up and dusted off the snow from her coat.

"What do you mean?"

"It's a surprise. Come on, get up. I'll show you." I regained my feet. We ran again and went to a tiny town with nylon signs, eateries, markets, and laundromats. Somewhere in the woods, was an abandoned house. I gasped. "Oh my God... was this?" I looked at her.

"Yup." She said as she pushed me inside the house. It was the house that we used to play in it. It was kind of like our top secret place where we usually go before and after school—even skipped classes—and we'd bring snacks. We decided to paint the house and clean it and kept it ever since. We didn't tell anyone about it. Even our parents. The house still looked fine. It was a cottage and inside it was a tiny, cute kitchen and a living room with a bathroom in the corner. When we saw it from the beginning, it looked fatigue, dusty and ugly. Plaster of walls were falling down, the glass windows were lined with cracks, bugs crawling from the inside, and the floors were old, rotten. But we ended up renovating and mowing the growing bushes, weeds and cut down a few trees to make a fire for the cottage. To be honest, it was better than having a tree house, in my opinion.

Haley and I sat on the carpet floor as she held out a wrapped present in front of me. "I just want it to be an early New Year... and also a late Merry Christmas." She chuckled nervously.

"That's very sweet of you. Thank you so very much," I smiled. "I also got you a present," I gave it to her. "Open it."

She looked up at me. She tear up the wrapped gift and carefully opened a tiny box. She gasped once she saw the handmade love beads I made for her. "Oh, dear. Peter, this is beautiful! What is it made out of?"

"Some were shells that I found at a beach in Long Island in New York where my family went to spend our summer there. And the other beads I bought at the bead store..."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" She questioned.

"Well... I just don't want you to think that I'd actually... d-do girly s-stuff..." I looked away, feeling my face hot.

Haley laughed. "I don't think this is girly. At all. It was just... you did really... wow... you just—you did amazing! I mean look at it. How did you learn making these things?"

"Grams taught me. She made one ever since she was little. We are really close, you see. Every now and then, I'd make love beads and collect them on my own."

"It was really sweet, you and your grandmother. And thank you, once again. It must've took you a long time to finish this, Peter."

"Nah, it was nothin'..."

"It ain't nothin. I think you did just great. Oh, Peter. I love it. Okay now open mine." I tear off the paper like as if I was a child who was about to open his first present from Santa. I opened the box, and it was a scrapbook. It was titled, "Two of a Kind". At the middle was a photo of Haley and me sitting on a bench outside our school, our heads thrown back from laughter. I opened to the first page. At the center, it said _"You never see bad days in a photo album, but it is these days that get us from one happy snapshot to the next." _in elegant, cursive handwriting. I flipped to a page where Haley and I first met in Thanksgiving with her parents at her house. Looking at the second page, the first picture we had together, and the class photo we took in decorated frames along with a few buttons and a black ribbon at the top left corner. The bottom contained the date, and a description about the event. I kept flipping until I saw a blank page throughout the scrapbook.

"I haven't completed it yet. So, I decided I'd give it to you and maybe you could also put anything here. It's your turn to finish it." She smiled at me. I smiled back.

"Wow, Haley. This is absolutely amazing. Thank you."

"Hey, no problem. Say, want to take some pictures so you could put it in the scrapbook?" Haley took out her camera that was hanging on her neck.

"Sure, why not?" We took some goofy pictures. One was where Haley stood against the window near a light that was glowing against the dim lit room, smiling beautifully. Another one was me doing a pretzel-knot on the floor meditating and me doing a headstand up against a wall.

The photos came out from the camera slot and we put them in the scrapbook. Haley took out a pen from her pocket and gave one to me. She wrote "_11:42 p.m. waiting for New Year's Eve._" I put some captions in it as well.

"You could decorate it if you want." Haley said.

"Maybe later."

"This is beautiful, isn't it?" Haley went near an alcove window and sat down. She stared outside and sighed. I sat beside her and l stared outside. Snow fell lazily to the ground.

Two squirrels chased each other down the tree as they rolled down to a pile of snow. Haley looked at me. I looked back. For a moment, I thought she was going to lean in to kiss me. But she whispered, "What time is it?"

I checked my watch for the time. "Ten to twelve."

"We should head back. I don't want your folks to be worried. Even mine."

"Okay." I said, a bit disappointed. During our long walks, we talked and talked for countless of hours. We giggled, threw snowballs at each other, and laid down at a field filled with snow for a while. A few minutes later, I dropped her off by her house at the front porch. She hugged me, I hugged her back tighter. "Peter, you must know that I will never forget you, never. I promise. And remember, I will always be right here," she touched my chest... where my heart should be. "Just like you told me." she smiled. Tears streaked down through my face.

"God, I'm going to miss you so much!" I said and hugged her tighter she hugged me back.

"I know me too!" She also cried when she said this. We broke our hug abruptly. Haley chuckled and touched my face. "I'll see you in a year, Pete. Goodbye." She pecked on my cheek. My face turning red either from the cold or... that. She closed the door and left me standing there. I walked across her lawn towards my house. I heard chatters and some giggling at the back porch. Everyone was outside waiting for the countdown. Mom was talking to Aunt Barbara, sitting at one of the lawn chairs. Dad, Uncle Drew and Ule were setting up the fireworks. I began walking towards them when Grams called my name. I turned around.

"How did it go?" She asked.

"It was alright. We talked, had fun in the snow and we exchanged presents... then we said goodbye."

"What are you going to do now, Peter?"

"I'm gonna miss her when she's gone. But she promised to call me or visit me sometime next year so I'll be okay with that."

"Oh Peter come here." Grams hugged me and patted my back. "I promise you that she's going to come back."

"I certainly hope so." I sighed. A few minutes later we started to count down. Dad lit up the fireworks and quickly stepped back.

"Ten...nine... eight..." I turned around to look at Hayley's house. I saw a silhouette animatedly doing something. It was her. She was packing up her things and she fixed her hair. I saw another person came in and animatedly talking to her. I watched carefully. It was her father. Hayley dropped her head and then hugged fare father goodbye. Her father pecked her on the forehead and left.

"... seven... six.." The light on the window turned off. I looked back at the crowd. The fireworks began to crackle it's way up. "... four... three... two... one... Happy New Year!" They all chorused. They all cheered. I turned to Hayley's house. I saw a car moving away from the driveway. My eyes followed the car until it disappeared on the road to nowhere.


	3. Chapter 2

**_9 years later..._**

"Okay, okay guys. Let's have the birthday boy sing a happy birthday!" Micky sat on the stool beside Davy who was wearing a birthday party hat along with the gigantic cake Micky and I made.

"Everybody now, let's sing! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Davy~ happy birthday to~ you~!" The crowd clapped, some whistled and cheered. Micky and I threw confetti at Davy.

"All right, Davy. Make a wish." Micky said.

"Okay." Davy closed his eyes for a moment and blew the candles while I snapped a photo of him. The party guests - Micky's family, Davy's, Mike's mom, our friends and my family were having a wonderful blast this year. We had our meals, played games, and opened Davy's presents, but Michael. He didn't - never - celebrate his birthday according to his belief for being a Christian Science. It was really sad, but we gave him presents on special occasions besides birthdays.

After the presents, Mike went to the bandstand and whistled so that we were all paying attention to him.

"Thank you, everyone for being here with us for Davy's birthday -"

"- Happy birthday too, Mike!" Micky shouted. Everyone greeted him as well.

"Uh, thanks... even though my family and I don't celebrate anything under the sun." The crowd awed.

"Anyways, since it's our birthday - by 'our' I meant Davy - do anyone of you want to come up here and say something to our birthday boy, with his handsome and... _charming _personality, Mr. David Jones?" He put a stool in front of the bandstand and gestured to Davy to sit on it.

"Thanks, Mike." Davy whispered.

"No sweat." Mike simpered. "Who wants to come up?"

"I do have to say something to Davy." Micky piped up.

"Come at the front, Mick." Micky went up to the bandstand along with the bottle of champagne- vintage '66. "That's what she said..." Micky whispered. He looked at me and we both snickered. Mike nudged Micky. Micky rubbed his arm. "Ouch."

He cleared his throat. "Davy. Oh man, I don't know where to start... okay, I've got one. These last two years, I wouldn't forget the time the four of us eating at Lakeview Restaurant. The time when you told me that I ate like a pig - I still do.. sort of -" We laughed.

"- You'd say, 'Do Americans taught you guys how to eat properly?!' " He did his fake Manchester accent. "We were all quiet while we were watching you slice the lettuce into smaller pieces -" Micky pretended he had a knife and fork, acting all so sophisticated.

"- Then you put the salad all over your face covered in salad dressings and all that shtick. And every time I eat a salad, I would always think of that. Davy, you made us all laugh, you're crazy, we love you, and you're the best brother that we ever have. To Davy." Micky raised the champagne.

"To Davy!" We raised our red plastic cups. Micky popped the cork out of its bottle, then came the bubbles bursting. The cork ricocheted across the room and ended up hitting Coco's forehead. We all gasped.

"Uh-oh... bulls-eye?" Micky chuckled. Coco glared at him. "Uh..bulls-head?"

"Okay, all right. Enough of that... uhm, who wants to go next?" Mike cut him off and pushed him out of the way.

I shot up my hand and tons of head swivelled around to my direction. "My turn." I stood up and approached the bandstand.

"First of all, happy birthday, second I would love to thank Davy's family to join us for your son's birthday." I looked at Davy to his father and sisters. I smiled at them. "We do appreciated it. What I loved the most about your son was how brave he was. He's courteous and daring. It's a wonderful thing to have a son and a brother like him. No matter how short he is, he will still be David who beat Goliath; a one courageous man who loves to do dangerous things in life and was never scared to admit his mistakes. He, too, became a part of my family. Cheers, Davy. Happy birthday once again." I grinned at him and raised my plastic cup.

Everyone cheered as well. Mike went up the stage with his Nudie cowboy suit, his Nudie hat, a holster, his cowboy boots, and his fake moustache. Michael walked like he was John Wayne. We all laughed.

"Davy, yer a one adrenaline junkie. What was my first impression of you was your cockiness. Like what Peter had said, you do dangerous things, taking risks. I would never forget the day we had a horse race in Texas... that was where I ended up in a cart pile of... manure." Everyone laughed.

"Racing against you had been extremely exciting for me. What I love about Davy was him riding motorcycles and he would do a flip. I'm wearing this today because ever since you were a kid, you always ranted about yer obsession of becoming a jockey. I - we, pray to God that you'll never lose that dream. Nobody can get it from you, nobody can take it away. No matter how small you are, you are still a successful Monkee. Don't be bothered or angry that you are too short to reach your goals. There's a saying; do not look a gift horse in the mouth. Just keep moving forward, Davy and never change. To the Manchester cowboy."

"To the Manchester cowboy!" Everyone said in unison.

"Yee~haw~!" Mike took a swig of champagne.

After the many speeches from our families and friends, some people went home, thanked us for the party, took pictures with us, and greeted Davy and Mike a happy birthday.

"Davy!" Coco called him. She was with a young lady who had a light brown hair, waist length, petite and had dark, searching brown eyes.

"Hey, Coco."

"Happy birthday!" Coco hugged him and he hugged her back.

"Thank you, love. Oh who's this lovely fine looking young lady?"

"This is Loretta. She is my best friend since pre-k. She wanted to talk to you." She nudged Loretta.

"H-hi...I-it's so n-nice to- to -to meet you." Loretta said quietly and shook Davy's hand.

"You too, my dear." He kissed her hand. Loretta giggled.

"I'll leave you two alone." Whispered Coco.

"Coco!" Loretta hissed.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." Coco approached Micky, Mike and me in the kitchen with Davy's sisters, Mike's mom, Micky's mom, my brother Nick and my mom cleaning all the plates.

"Need a hand?" Coco grabbed Micky's plate, who was busy drying them.

"Ugh, Coco! Mom!" Micky shouted in a childish way. Mike, Nick, and I snickered.

"Darling, why don't you clean the dining table and pick up the trash on the living room? Tell David to help you... also Loretta? Please, don't try to bother your brother. The nine of us here are enough."

"Okay." She trotted around Micky and gave him the plate back. She splashed him with water from the sink.

"Agh!" Micky grunted.

"Peter, could you and Nick please help me load these in the trunk of my car?" My mom, Virginia, carried boxes and gave it to each of us.

"What's in here?" I shook the box.

"Be careful with that! Those are my china plates! Just put it in the trunk."

Nick and I put it inside the trunk of a Mercedez-Benz. The weather tonight was very chilly. The cold California winter air blew from our faces. I shivered.

"Well, that's the last box." Nick shut the trunk and sighed."Hey, Pete. Are you coming with us?"

"To where?"

"In Berlin. Grandma really misses you. She can't stop talking about you during her visits to Connecticut."

"Gee, it''s been a long time, I know. I never call her for the last four years. How was she?"

"She's fine, happy and healthy. She moved in with us after you left."

"Why didn't she go to the party then she moved in with you?"

"Let's just say she slept when we left. Mom didn't want to bother her so... yeah."

"You can't just leave her alone at home, are you nuts?!"

"Well we tried, but she can take care of herself."

"She's eighty-three, goddamn it! I hate to see her alone."

"Calm down, man. Don't worry when we get back home. She's going to be safe."

"She'd better be, or your ass is going to be sorry."

"Whatever. Hey, how was Hayley? Still writing love letters for her? _'My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love is deep. One light through yonder breaks it is the east and Hayley is the sun.'_" Nick said, as he was trying to do a Shakespeare poetry. I rolled over my eyes.

"Shut up, Nick." My brother laughed and I shoved him.

"I was just kidding, man chill. But seriously, mother said Hayley never visited you or came to look for you. Did you even called her or talked to her?"

"Well, I did. But her mom would always answer the phone and tell me she's busy. She must've been very busy. No wonder she never wrote me a letter or phone me. I must give her some space. I mean wouldn't she get annoyed when I call her house every time?"

"Visit her then." Nick suggested.

"San Francisco? No way am I going there. I couldn't even afford money for going on the train."

"Take the car that you guys have been driving."

"The Monkeemobile? I don't want that car to run out of gas while its in the middle of the road. We might get lost or something."

"Then find a gas station. Boy, you don't even think. You know, mom's worried about you... even Grams."

"Nick, I'm not sad that Hayley left me. She promised to visit me at any time and any place."

"She went to visit you in New Year's Eve, right? How many times did she ever visit you? Not once!"

"She sent me a telegram." I protested.

"But did she ever visited you in like, forever?" Nick questioned. "Did she?" He pressed. I pursed my lips. "Well? Did she? Did she ever came back and tell you that she misses you? In _person_?" He repeated.

"No, she didn't!" I finally said it.

"No, she didn't," he repeated. "She might've forgotten about you, and I know it sucks. But if you want to see her, then go. Come on, it's obvious that you're dying to see her. Do you want mom and grandma to bother your friendship with Hayley? No offence, they are getting on my nerves."

"I-"

"Why do you have to wait for something to happen if you don't do it? If you keep on waiting, nothing will happen." Nick interrupted.

"Alright, alright! I'll do it! But I'm doing this for you guys."

"Good. Let's head back."

After all the cleanup in the pad, everyone's families had left the place. The four of us slouched down on the couch. Micky took out a box from his pocket and shook it in front of us. "Since everyone is gone, I think this calls us a celebration." He grinned.

"Always," Davy muttered. Michael and I smirked. From within one of the pockets of his jacket, a joint was produced. "You want to smoke?" Micky asked.

Davy already grabbed one from Micky's pocket and took out a lighter and lit up the joint. We all nodded.

"Sure I want one," I smiled and sat down on the carpet floor, as Davy took a leisurely drag. Without a word, he then passed the stick to me. "_Ahhh..." _

The four of us passed the joint around, our heads spinning with the mixture of laughter and ecstasy. The incense coming on heavy. I had never felt so stoned than last time. Before I met the guys, I had left home three years before. I saved up my allowance and any money I earned doing odd jobs for the neighbours and when I turned seventeen, I treated myself to a birthday present – a second hand acoustic guitar. From the first moment my fingers touched the frets, I was hooked. The world melted away, the hassles at house, the fights with my brother, the image of Hayley. It all disappeared as I taught myself to play the music that was my passion.

The summer of 1963 was my last season after I dropped out of college. I was twenty-one and constantly on edge, feeling ready to burst at the seams. Even the guitar could no longer soothe my soul. By now the Beatles were on the scene and so were the folk rock performers like Bob Dylan. And I suddenly knew what I had to do. If I was ever to have any kind of life, if I was to have the life I wanted, the life I needed, I would have to pack it up and leave Storrs and all its ties far behind. Sure there were arguments at first, but soon my parents realized I'm all grown up. I had my own decisions, choices to be made. So I packed my bags, said goodbye to my folks, and hopped on a bus headed for New York, Greenwich Village to be exact. I had read about the swinging folk music scene there and thought this could be my chance at a new life.

My assumption was right. I got off of the bus, moved into a hotel and soon obtained work as a dishwasher at a small cafe called The Golden Bear. Each night a different folk singer appeared on stage and I got to know them all. Every now and then, I'd go up on stage and perform. I would spend my free time jamming with musicians there, the first time I smoked pot and drank cheap wine and eventually I met Stephen. He and I could have passed for brothers; we looked so much alike. It became a joke because people were always mixing us up, but in reality it made me happy to be compared to Stephen.

Soon I grew my hair long and began wearing jeans and t-shirts, moccasins, and love beads. I was never a tough guy, but I was far from squeaky clean. My parents made me a clean cut kid. I drank whiskey and smoked cigarettes and even popped pills on occasion.

With Stephen, all was well until one "pass the basket night" at the cafe. A pass the basket session was just that, musicians would play for fifteen minutes and a basket would go around the room. Then we'd wait for another forty-five minutes to perform on stage. Patrons would toss money in to show their appreciation for the music. The only problem was, they were about as poor – if not more so – than the performers so there never was much cash collected. Not that it mattered, the musicians weren't in it to get rich, they were there because music was their passion. I told Stephen that I decided to go to another place. I could have stayed in the Village and kept the apartment that I was living in. Even if I couldn't afford it there were plenty of friends who would have moved in and split the rent, but the Village had lost its appeal. Though, I had a great time there and the Village was great. It put me out of my misery. I had been there for two years and decided that once again it was time to cut ties and move on. But Stephen came to visit me and stayed in California in '65.

Scrounging together what money and belongings I possessed, I once again headed to the bus station with my guitar strapped to my back. This time I was going farther – California was the place to be. When I landed in the Malibu Beach area, I met a group of kids that, as soon as they saw my guitar, invited me to hang out. That's when I first met Michael, then introduced me to Micky and Davy who were great friends. They had a garage band by themselves, and asked me if I wanted to join the group. I accepted the request and we became The Monkees. I stayed with them for two years, then met some other people and thus a new pattern of my life was born. I would play my guitar, and pan handle for money. Job hunting for gigs, earning money, spending the day doing rehearsals for countless hours, had been rough. But with The Monkees, it had been different.

For the last two years, I had never expected this. Ever. Being with my friends had been very special to me, it meant a lot to me. My heart's connection to them were meaningful, they were like my other brothers. Davy had been the sincere one. Always helped out people by just looking at their expression. Yet, what had bothered me was of how he would bug me by telling him what's wrong and I'd give up and tell him everything. Same thing as Mike. He'd been trustworthy, honest, and calm. At times, he wouldn't kid around about people's problems. He was dead serious all the way. Micky's different from the two. He'd cheer you up when you're down. I'd always liked his jokes and his sarcasms. The guy has had a big sense of humour!- my first impression of him.

The group also had quirks as I had observed in two years. Mike had a habit of saying, 'Shotgun' as a nickname for us and for others as well. Micky would always do a James Cagney impression - he needed to work on that - he'd say "sock it to me" and he'd do a semi-cross eyed, just for a laugh. I would sometimes hear David say, 'You must be joking?' even use his British slangs and expressions, mostly when he said "Oh!" when there's trouble. My quirks were saying "cute" most of the time. The four of us would say "Don't do that." - mostly with the cussing.

We were smoking for hours, I don't know how long we were up. The room was filled with incense, getting us even more stoned than we had everbeen in our lives.

"Look! I'm a bird." David flapped his arms.

"Fly free, bird. Fly high above the sky towards the sun when you go by." Mike said.

"I feel like I'm in heaven." Micky had a goofy grin on his face. I clumsily stood up and grabbed four beers in the fridge and popped open the caps. I sat back down the carpet floor and gave each of them a beer. I raised mine and nodded at Davy. "Here's to a wonderful celebration, David. Happy friggin' birthday."

"Cheers to our man. Mr. David Thomas Jones." Micky said.

"To Mr. David Thomas Jones." We clinked our bottles and took a long swig of our beer.

We smoked pot and drank more. Our heads spun around making us dizzy and high. The drug gave us more boost, feeling completely stoned and happy. We were getting hysterical, getting all loopy from it. I felt my stomach grumble. I felt a little buzz, I was so dizzy, my head hurt. I started to see things, random colours, all psychedelic. My stomach churned from the drug and the booze. I was getting out of control, I knew I was expecting something. _Oh God, here it comes! _

I bolted through the bathroom, my head in the toilet and started vomiting noisily. Then I felt someone's hand stroking my back.

"Hey, buddy. Just breathe. I'll be right back with a water." It was Michael. He left me in the bathroom still puking. My head was throbbing irritatingly, like it was about to explode. Mike came back with the water as I gulped it down my throat. I closed the toilet's lid and sat down, trying to take a few deep breaths.

"You know what? This is too much. I knew I should've considered this before. Okay, Pete. I want you to go to bed. You look awful. Come on, just wash your face and go downstairs." Mike said firmly. He helped me regain to my feet as he turned on the tap and splashed me a cold water. After that, he led me downstairs and opened the door to our room. I found my bed as I clumsily sat down. Mike grabbed some clothes for me and threw it at me. "Go get changed. And then go to sleep. I'll go talk to the guys and clean up the stuff upstairs. You'll be okay?" I nodded. He shut the door behind him and left. I slowly changed my clothes unable to control myself from the drug. I could still see colours and other psychedelic things. I lay uncomfortably in bed while I put the covers on top of me and slowly drifted off to sleep.

It was early in the morning and my head was fuzzy from a night of pot smoking and the hangovers, which had followed a two day acid binge. The sunrise was particularly awe inspiring today, whether it was from the after effects of the drugs or the feeling of freedom that still continued to hit me like a hammer I couldn't say. What I did know was that I had to start moving. It was strange, while most people I met could sleep the day away and party all night, I was always an early riser. First light was my favourite time of the day and there was nothing better than walking on the beach, along the water, as the rays ignited the waves. I turned to the other side, seeing my Manchester friend slept ever so lightly, patterning with light, even breaths. His covers fell on the ground; his arms and legs were everywhere like he was a sleeping baby - oh how cute - I smiled. I stood up and made my bed and went to the kitchen when I found Mike, as usual reading the papers while he was eating cereal. The table was filled with pancakes, juice, milk and cereal boxes. It seemed that we were the only early risers to be in the kitchen. I fixed myself a breakfast as I grabbed a plate, fork and knife with an empty glass as I put down a portion of pancake and filled up my glass with OJ.

"Good morning." I greeted Mike.

"Mornin', shotgun. How're ya feelin'?" Mike said. He didn't look up from his paper.

I shrugged. "My head still hurt, but I'll be okay." I sat across from him as I chowed down on my pancake.

"You should rest more," Michael suggested. "You don't look so good." I nodded. I heard a door shut. We both turned to see Davy walking to the living room. He clumsily sat down at the table and looked at us. "Mornin'..." he yawned.

"Mornin', Dave." I replied and smiled. I gave him half of my pancakes and he took it and ate.

"Sleep well, Davy?" Mike asked. Davy shook his head. "You want to clean up a bit and come job hunting with me? I was planning to find another gig for us to play."

"Why? Because no one else will go with you?" Davy asked. In all seriousness, he had meant it, but Mike assumed he was being sarcastic and dismissed it.

"If we don't get some cash, Babbitt's gonna blow his top! We haven't paid last month's rent and we're two days late with this month. I figured we'd hit the other side of town where we don't normally go. We might be able to pick up a long term deal, what do you think?"

"I think we should reconsider the career as out of work musicians. Maybe then I could have a decent breakfast, or I might be going out for a good nosh or two." Davy paused, noticing Mike's expression that he didn't understand what he just said. "I mean a better food. I'll go. Just let me get a shower before we leave." Davy said groggily. He dropped his unused spoon onto the counter and headed back towards the bedroom to get a change of clothes. The sound of the door brought my head and Mike's head up and he folded the paper, preparing to put it down on the table once Davy got out of the bedroom. There was no hiding that he hadn't gotten much sleep. His eyes were heavy, weighed down with dark bags underneath them. His eyelids covered more than half of his brown irises. He smiled in an attempt to look more awake, but it was a very weak and hesitant smile- extremely unconvincing.

"Ready?" Mike asked. Davy nodded. Mike finished discarding the paper and stood up, meeting Davy by the front door of the Pad. Mike opened the door, letting Davy go out in front of him, and quickly grabbed the car keys from a nearby table. "Alright, Peter. Go to bed if you still feel like not to move around. If not, I want you to wash the dishes, clean the table and start vacuuming the living room. If Micky comes downstairs, tell him after breakfast to do the laundry with you. We'll be back in a bit. That okay for ya?"

I nodded. "Great, later, Pete." The two left, the room was peaceful and quiet. I started with the dishes then vacuumed up the kitchen floor, the living room and the bathroom. Micky was still sleeping yet, his snore could be heard downstairs. I decided to do the laundry on my own and waited for it to be done. I came back home later and I cleaned the grill from the back patio. I put on some new sheets for my pillow and my bed as I put the old ones in the basket. I did the same thing to David's bed. When Mike and Davy came back, they looked surprised.

"Wow, Pete. You'd actually tidied up the Pad. This place wasn't even clean for two years." Mike said as he wandered around the place as if it had been renovated.

"Everything's all hunky-dory," Davy whistled. "What'd you do? Did you had some sort of a giant hoover and sucked all the dirt up, in every nook and cranny?"

I shrugged. "I was bored. I had nothing better to do, so I cleaned up the place. Micky's still in bed." I reminded them.

"I'll do it," Davy said. He climbed up the stairs and rapped on the door. "Knocker up, Dolenz." He raised his voice. He opened the door and went inside.

I looked at Mike. "How'd you make out?"

"Let's wait for those guys to come down." Mike replied. As soon as the two came downstairs - Davy sliding down the bannister and Micky groggily walked down the steps - Michael let us sat down the living room, waiting for everyone.

"We have an audition tomorrow downtown," Mike began talking, looking at each of us. "I think we can get it, but it's been so long since we practiced."

"Why mess with perfection?" I joked. "We still have time to rehearse."

"Yeah," Micky agreed. "Why don't we work on the new ones?"

"Okay, that's fine." Mike said.

"But first, let me eat breakfast. I'm friggin' starving here." Micky's stomach grumbled.

"I'll set up the bandstand." I told Michael. I started to set up the drums, but it was too heavy for me to carry. "I'll help you with that, mate." David volunteered as he carried the cymbals and the tom toms.

The audition would be the next day, so in the meantime, we focused on making it through the rest of the day. When we rehearsed throughout the new songs that we had to learn, it was late afternoon. By this time, we played the last one. I picked up my bass and strapped it on my shoulder. Davy was on the drums, and switched with Micky on the percussions with the tambourine.

"5, 6, 7, 8..." Michael had started off with a guitar riff, the bass and the drums started with a rhythmic thump. Then Micky shook the tambourine. After hours and hours of practice, we finally finished through the night and we decided to sit around the living room and ordered Chinese food while watching "Genie". We decided not to celebrate anything before New Year. As the food came, I opened the door, I grabbed the meal and reached out for my wallet, but it wasn't in either of my pockets.

"I'll be right back." I went in my room beside the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers. Something caught my eye. It was a folded telegram that Hayley had given me seven years ago. I dared not to look, but I opened it up and read what she wrote:

_Dear Peter,_

_I debated whether to write you this note but however things ended, we were friends once. I have so much work to do and I really do felt bad not writing to you. So, here it is. How was the place you asked? Well, the weather is delightful, the neighbours were being neighbourly, and it's _way _different in Connecticut. It's peaceful and it's wonderful. The people here are too nice. My mother is doing well with this guy, Garrett that we're staying with. He was not that bad. I don't know about my father. I don't talk to him that much._

_I'm going to give you this letter once. ONCE and that's all. Look, Peter. I don't mean to hurt you, but I think it's better if we could... not talk... for a while. I've been busy here in San Francisco I got a job, my mother's helping me and... oh God, I don't know what to say. __Peter don't take this the wrong way, but I'm staying here. I might not be able to visit you or call you. Peter, I'm truly am sorry. But I need space, Peter. _Please_could you just give me some time just to clear my head? You keep on calling me too much, keep sending me letters._

_It is my wish that this be our last communication. Maybe it seems odd, after what I told you in this note, for me to be concerned with propriety...but let this be our final private word with one another, as you are no longer with me._

_I hope you and your family are alright._

_Most Sincerely,_

_Hayley._

I read it over and over again. I put the paper back on the drawer. I felt a pang of sadness, mixture of anger, pain, and guilt. It was some sort of emotions that had spiral in me. Which had gotten hysterical.

"Peter! The guy's still waiting at the door!" Mike called out from downstairs. I quickly shook my head and went downstairs as I handed the money to the guy and shut the door. I opened the fridge and grabbed a beer and ate the Chinese food angrily. My bandmates were in deep conversation, as my mind wandered off someplace. How could Hayley do this to me? All these years, sending her letters, telegrams and all the calls I had for her, it meant nothing. She felt that it was pointless. Meaningless. And that was not even fair! She _promised!_ I balled up my fists, feeling as if the whole house was crumbling around me. Still upset about what she had said. _L__et this be our final private word with one another, as you are no longer with me._

_If you want to see her, then go. Come on, it's obvious that you're dying to see her. Do you want mom and grandma to bother your friendship with Hayley? _I had recall Nick telling me this. I decided what I had to do. I quietly went to my room, without even being noticed from the guys. I turned on the lamp and took out a piece of paper and began writing:

_Dear Hayley,_

_I know you asked–demanded–that I not write to you. But I feel as if I must apologize for whatever I wrote in my previous letters. I am afraid I cannot recall what I eventually stuffed into an envelope, haphazardly addressed and stamped since frankly, I drank too much that night. The night where I waited and _waited_ for goddamn long just to see you. I am ashamed to admit that I drank so much I do not know how I made it back to bed. I do not want to make excuses. But you must allow me to explain–if I ever decide to post _this _letter._

_Regardless of what was written, I can tell that it upset you and I am so very sorry. I wish I could apologize more specifically but I'm afraid I cannot. Whatever I said, I am sorry. Even as I write this letter, I do not know if I will send it since your wishes were perfectly clear in both your letter to me saying goodbye and your telegram. I can only imagine that my letter was fueled by anger and grief over your departure and much too much alcohol._

_Still, I find myself asking: what does Hayley_really _want?_

_You know, when I think I consider the whole saga that is _us_, I realize I've spent years asking myself that question, seemingly every day since I met you. I know you so well–better than most, I would say–and yet you remain a mystery to me, just out of my reach, always out of my reach. Now, you are even farther away, far away from my heart._

_I cannot imagine you being happy there, not after your comments over the divorce and your mother. I want you to be happy. I know that is true, even if there is so much I do not know. What do you_ really _want, Hayley? Name it and it's yours._

_Since you left, it seems as if the world has changed and I do not know how to exist in this world, the new world without you in it. I should not send this letter. Because all through our adventures together, you were here but you were not within reach. You never allowed yourself to be alone with me. I remember trying to catch your eye so many times. Were you already planning a life without me? I know it's asinine–this letter, my words and thoughts–because_ I_was planning a life without you. I moved on. I was planning my life with something new. Don't worry about me. I found great friends to be with and they meant more than the whole wide world._

_But you must know, what I told you during the time in New Year's Eve (you must remember) remains true. I love you. __But my world is not the same without you in it. That is all I know. I'm sorry._

_What do you _really_ want, Hayley? Name the terms._

_Yours,_

_Peter_

I stuffed it in an envelope, put the address and her address as I put a stamp on it. I put it away in my drawer and came back downstairs again. I took my beer that was on the living room table. Davy and Micky were still watching. I saw Mike drinking a glass of water, wearing his pyjamas.

"Hey, where are you going, shotgun?" Mike caught me leaving. Davy and Micky looked at us.

I stood up, but walked towards the door. "I think I'll go for a walk."

"It's the middle of the night!" He stood up and tried to stop me.

I shot a look at him and he backed off. "Stop worrying, Michael."

Mike nodded. "Fair enough. Just don't go too far." I was a bit surprised that Mike had actually listened, but I headed out the door. I kept walking straight towards the beach I knew that he wouldn't be able to stop worrying until I came back in.

Screw New Year. Screw my life. Screw Hayley. Screw whatever Nick had told me. I didn't care any longer. I didn't want to see her anyways. I didn't come back home until dawn.


End file.
